


Walking Doormat

by ElgarTheCat



Category: Original Work
Genre: But they are bastards sometimes, For Creative Writing Class, Gen, I actually love cats, I wrote this in one (1) hour so it might not be great, One-Shot, Posted as a replacement for my old fic that I deleted, Short, Sorry if you were following that, also
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElgarTheCat/pseuds/ElgarTheCat
Summary: The family cat, Benson, slunk around the doorframe, giving the twins a foul look for their usual crime of existing. The curmudgeonly old bastard had loathed them from the day of their birth, and took any opportunity to be a thorn in both of their sides. His eyes landed on the test tube, and Chloe swore she saw the animal smirk.Alternatively: Cats are bastards, and mad scientists are remarkable in their ability to create life from things that should never have the capacity for sentience.
Kudos: 1





	Walking Doormat

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in creative writing class for an exercise with making a story come out of two names, a place, a problem and a solution. it isn't the best, but I'm proud of it and wanted to post it.  
> So these characters are most likely never going to get fleshed out or anything, this is just a writing exercise.
> 
> My prompts were:
> 
> Name 1: Allan  
> Name 2: Chloe  
> Location: Bedroom  
> Problem: When some glue explodes  
> Solution: Paying someone £100

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Don’t worry, Chlo, it’s fine. I know what I’m doing.”

Chloe was worried. Allan’s ideas usually started with him declaring his certainty of safety, and ended with something on fire, or them covered in pink slime, or the landing filled with bubbles… why did she keep letting him drag her into these things again?

“Right! Ready to go!”

She snapped back to the present, staring at the boiling tube in front of them in trepidation. The bottom of it glowed from the heat of the Bunsen burner, and the mint-green goop inside bubbled sluggishly as it slowly grew darker. This latest experiment was her mad-scientist twin’s attempt at home made super-super glue, and it would hopefully be harmless. Hopefully.

Allan carefully lifted the boiling tube from the flames and placed it in the rack, staring at the glue as it stopped bubbling and quickly condensed, becoming visibly stickier with each passing second. ‘At least,’ Chloe thought ‘it doesn’t look like it’s going to become a slime monster any time soon’. She had long since learnt that a strange version of Murphy’s Law applied to her brother’s experiments – anything that could turn into a cartoon-esque impossible disaster would – and this involved a truly stupid number of giant monsters, given that the experiments usually involved things that should under no circumstances gain sentience, but here they were.

At least this one wouldn’t become airborne like the last. Probably.

Her head snapped to the side at the sound of Allan’s bedroom door creaking open. The family cat, Benson, slunk around the doorframe, giving the twins a foul look for their usual crime of existing. The curmudgeonly old bastard had loathed them from the day of their birth, and took any opportunity to be a thorn in both of their sides. His eyes landed on the test tube, and Chloe swore she saw the animal smirk.

“Allan?” she warned. “The walking doormat is here... and he looks more evil than usual.”

“Hmm?” her brother replied distractedly, not looking up from the glue “I can’t look away from this right now, Chlo’, the situation is very delicate.”

“I swear, Allan, he’s looking at the glue.”

“Don’t be ridiculous”

“I'm serious, Allan, he’s staring at i- ALLAN!”

Her last sentence was cut off by her shriek as Benson launched himself into Allan’s back, sending the boy careening face-first into the work table, the glue flying across the surface and smashing against the stem of the Bunsen Burner. 

The resulting explosion sent windows rattling throughout the street.

After her ears stopped ringing, Chloe sat up from where she had fallen on the floor. Or rather, she tried to. Her movement was halted by the thick layer of green glue that cemented her body to the floor. Her eyes narrowed in fury.

“THAT FUCKING CAT!”

Mr and Mrs Westbrook had not expected to have to bribe their children out of murder at any point in their lives, but coming home to their livid daughter trying to flay the family cat alive, hysterical about the tacky green glue stuck in her hair (and all over her brother’s room) was enough of an exceptional circumstance that it was necessary. £100 of extra allowance was required for her to stop her demands that Benson be brought to the animal shelter, and another £50 was required to get the glue out of her hair. Allan would have gotten the same, had he not broken the rule about experiments in the house – and had he not been grinning in victory at the success of his experiment throughout his punishment of cleaning the glue from every surface in his room.

They didn’t see him sneak a sample into his desk drawer for later.


End file.
